Houghton surveyed the entire court before bringing his eyes back to Cronyn and continuing.
“Now, I am assuming that the Los Angeles Police Department will have an interest in talking to you as well as to Terrence Spencer. Criminal charges may arise from that. I don’t know. I can’t control that. But what I can control is what happens in this courtroom, and I have to say that never in my twenty-one years on the bench have I seen such a concerted effort to undermine the rule of law by attorneys appearing before me. Therefore, I find Lance Cronyn and Katherine Cronyn in criminal contempt of this Court and order them taken into custody forthwith. Deputy Garza, you need to call a female court deputy in here as soon as possible to take custody of Ms. Cronyn.”
Katherine Cronyn immediately collapsed onto her husband’s shoulder in tears. As Bosch watched, her emotions shifted, and soon she was pounding a fist into her husband’s chest. He corralled her with his arms and pulled her into an embrace that stopped the pummeling and left only the tears. Deputy Garza walked up behind him, handcuffs dangling from one hand, ready to take him back into the jail.
“Now, Mr. Kennedy,” Houghton said, “I don’t know what you plan to do with the information Mr. Haller has brought to light, but I know what I’m going to do. I’m going to call members of the media and the public back into the courtroom and tell them exactly what happened in here today. You’re not going to like it because you and your agency are not going to come off too well, considering it was a defense lawyer and his investigators who put this together under the nose of the LAPD and assorted other agencies.
“But I’ll say this. Your office owes Detective Bosch a big fat apology and I will be watching to make sure you give it on a big stage, in a timely manner, and without any ‘buts’ or ‘becauses’ or asterisks attached. Nothing short of full exoneration of the suspicions and allegations that were published in Sunday’s newspaper will suffice. Do I make myself clear on that, Mr. Kennedy?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Kennedy said. “We would be doing that even if you had not ordered it.”
Houghton frowned.
“Knowing what I know about politics and the justice system, I find that highly unlikely.”
The judge scanned the room again, found Bosch, and asked him to stand.
“Detective, I imagine you have been put through the wringer in recent days,” he said. “I want to apologize on behalf of the Court for this needless torment. I wish you the best of luck, sir, and you are welcome in my courtroom anytime.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Bosch said.
Two deputies, including a female, entered through the holding area door and joined Garza in taking the Cronyns into custody. The judge instructed his clerk to go out into the hallway to tell those waiting that they could return to the courtroom.
An hour later Houghton adjourned his court for the day, and Kennedy was left to wade through the gaggle of reporters who demanded his comments and reaction to what the judge had just announced.
Out in the hallway, Bosch watched Soto and Tapscott approach Terrence Spencer and take him into custody. Cisco came up next to Bosch and they watched the detectives lead Spencer down the hall.
“I hope he tells them how he rigged the box,” Bosch said. “I really want to know.”
“Not going to happen,” Cisco said. “He’s taking the fifth.”
“But you said he was going to testify.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your text to Haller in the courtroom. You said he was ready to testify.”
“No, I said you can put him on the stand but he’ll take the nickel. Why, what did Mick say?”
Bosch stared across the hallway at Haller, who was talking one-on-one with a reporter writing in a notebook. There was no camera, so Bosch assumed it was a print reporter — which most likely meant he was from the Times.
“Son of a gun,” he said.
“What?” Cisco asked.
“I saw him read your text, and then he told the judge that Spencer was ready to go on the stand. He didn’t exactly say he would testify, only that he’d go on the stand. He tipped the whole thing with that bluff. Borders took the bait and blew a gasket. That was it.”
“Smooth move.”
“Dangerous move.”
Bosch continued to stare at Haller and he started to put things into place.
40
After all the interviews were over, Team Bosch decided to get out of the courthouse and walk over to Traxx in Union Station to celebrate the across-the-board victory. While Haller and Cisco went into the restaurant to get a table, Bosch walked his daughter down to the ramp to the Metrolink train she was due to board. She had bought a return ticket on her app.
“I’m so glad I was here, Dad,” Maddie said.
“I’m glad you were here too,” Bosch said.
“And I’m so sorry if it sounded like I ever doubted you.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Mads. You didn’t.”
He pulled her into a long embrace and looked up the tunnel to the sunlight waiting at the boarding platform. He kissed the top of her head and let her go.
“I still want to come down for dinner when you get back to your house. I’ll get the app and take the train.”
“Definitely. Bye, Dad.”
“Bye, sweetie.”
He watched her walk up the ramp to the light. She knew he would and she turned at the top to wave. She was entirely in silhouette and then she was gone.
Bosch joined his lawyer and his investigator in a booth next to a window that looked out on the train station’s waiting area of mixed Art Deco and Moorish designs. Haller had already ordered martinis all around. They clinked glasses and toasted. The three musketeers, all for one and one for all. Bosch caught Haller’s eyes and nodded. His attorney apparently didn’t interpret it as the thank-you he felt he deserved.
“What?” Haller asked.
“Nothing,” Bosch said.
“No, what? What was that look you gave me?”
“What look?”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
Cisco watched them silently, knowing better than to get in the middle.
“All right,” Bosch said. “I saw you talking to that reporter in the hallway. After court. He was from the Times, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Haller said. “They have a major skinback to write. That’s what he called it when they have to set the record straight. It’s not a correction, because what they went with Sunday came out of court documents. But it was one-sided. It will be the full story tomorrow.”
“What was his name?”
“You know, I didn’t catch his name. All those guys, they’re the same.”
“Was it David Ramsey?”
“I just told you I didn’t get the guy’s name.”
Bosch just nodded and Haller once again saw judgment.
“If you have something to say, then say it,” he said. “And stop with the know-it-all judgmental looks.”
“I don’t have anything to say,” Bosch said. “And I don’t know it all but I know what you did.”
“For chrissakes, what are you talking about?”
“I know what you did.”
“Oh, here we go. What did I do, Bosch? Would you just tell me what the fuck you’re talking about?”
“You’re the leak. You gave the story to the Times on Friday. You’re the one who gave it to Ramsey.”
Cisco was in the middle of a second sip from his martini, the fragile stemmed glass held by his thick fingers. He almost spilled it all over his nice dress vest.
“No fucking way,” he said. “Mick would never do—”